Author's Note: I know this sounds weird as , but it's a real Triad Induction Ceremony ritual.

"We stopped looking for monsters under our bed when we realized they were inside of us."

--Charles Darwin

“Now put your finger into your mouth, and tell me how it tastes.”

Junko watched the half man in front of her, kneeling on a large piece of white paper, do just that. He was Japanese, of average height, and had no tattoos anywhere on his slim pale body. The man looked up and answered confidently that it tasted sweet.

Another man, this time standing in front of the other, did not waver. This man was Jin Hanseong better known as the Heaven King. Within Thousand Year House he was the Incense Master and as such it was his duty to be leading this ceremony.

The location of the ceremony was the basement of the flower shop she had just been in earlier in the day. After a quick change out of her soaked clothes, Junko returned accompanied by the other other leaders and their leader, the head of The House who stood just a few feet behind her. The room itself was bare of any furniture save for the red covered table separating the Japanese man, Hanseong, and her from the others in the room. On the table itself was just a few things ; burning joss sticks, a pin she had used to prick the mystery man’s finger, a knife, a paper doll in the shape of a man, and the newly replaced glass of wine. Otherwise, it was just as barren as the rest of the room.

Hanseong went to explain that one should never rat out their brothers - and sister, in this case - for any amount of money or other bribes. “If one of your brothers is in trouble and the police are seeking him out so desperately that they are willing to pay for information, would your rather have money or your brothers?”

“My brothers,” the man once again answered without hesitation.

Junko reached behind her for the knife on the table, grasping it firmly before approaching the man. He looked up to her briefly before Junko swung the blade sideways, smacking the man across the face with the flat of the blade. She returned to her previous spot and handed the knife off to Hanseong who in turn used it to begin slicing the paper doll into pieces.

“This is the informant. He ratted out his brother, and in return his punishment is death.” The last bits of the doll fell around their feet. He spoke in an old Chinese dialect to the man who repeated it - this went on for a while more before the ceremony was done. Everyone in the room wet their pointer fingers and thumbs with their saliva before snuffing out one of the eight joss sticks. It still burned, but Junko did her best to not show the pain.

Their leader called the now dressed man aside while everyone else reconvened outside of the closed door.  Junko was the first to speak.

“Finally, I can stop having to run my off between two provinces to make up for a hole in the group.” She sighed in relief and pulled the slim metal e-cigarette out of her pocket, taking a drag of fake tobacco flavoring into her lungs.

Hyunbin slung his arm over her shoulders and pulled her into his chest. Junko was too tired to fight back, mind blank and full at the same moment leading to exhaustion.

“Don’t worry, Little Dragon, you can get your cat naps and manicures in now.”

The other men laughed and carried on with meaningless conversation. They were cut off when the door eased open ; everyone bowed deeply to the two men standing the opening and did not straighten until The House leader cleared his throat.

“This,” he pat the back of the Japanese man who smiled too fondly, “is Sone Terumoto.”

“That has to be a pseudonym, right?” Sun Ilha, the Sun King of Lion Dawgs, spoke incredulously while looking him up and down.

Junko put the back of her hand against his chest. “No, Terumoto was a feudal lord who built Hiroshima castle. Sone-ssi was probably named after him.”

Terumoto turned his smile to her and nodded appreciatively. “You’re right, Dragon King. And please, don’t feel the need to use formal language with me.”

Then don’t call me by that stupid ing name, she thought bitterly. Physically she just nodded and returned half a smile.

The leader continued. “He will be our new Straw Sandal. Daughter, you are relieved of your duty and men. Continue with your work as Vanguard from this day forward.” She nodded wordlessly again ; the elder turned to Terumoto. “As leader, you have the power to rename your title and group. Do you choose to do so?”

Terumoto didn’t hesitate to give a response. “Yes. Flower King does sound nice, but I don’t feel it really suits me.” He chuckled quickly before straightening his expression. “The Glass King has a nice ring to it, I feel. Y-Den, though, can stay.”

“Then it’s decided. Children, please welcome your new brother among us.” He nodded his head to the group as a whole who bowed deeply making, taking his leave until stopping. “Ah, yes, my age nearly made me forget. Why not have a show of skill amongst you? In two days time we shall host a race. Junko, this will give you ample opportunity to become acquainted with Terumoto and have your men spread the word. Y-Den could use some fresh meat.”

She nodded again, dropping back into a bow with the men until the door up the stairs shut firmly. One by one the other men excused themselves until only Hanseong, Terumoto, and Junko were left. Hanseong bid them farewell and retreated back into the ceremony room.

Left outside together Terumoto offered his hand to Junko who kindly accepted. He supported her up the stairs and out into the parking lot where their cars were parked side by side, the only two remaining in the lot. Beside the Koenigsegg was a black Honda Civic Type R. The red interior shone dimly through the tinted windows and made the car that much more alluring. Judging by the smaller frame and higher spoiler, the car was the FD2 model popular in the world of Japanese street racing.

Junko pulled her hand from Terumoto’s and whistled lowly.

“I’m guessing that means you like it,” he quipped bemused.

“Yes like. Very much like,” Junko didn’t know whether to blame the attractive car or her physical weariness for her lack of sentence structure.

Quickly coming up beside her Terumoto spoke lowly, almost whispering, “Well, maybe you can see what more it has to offer in a few days.”

She couldn’t place it, but something about his words and voice made Junko uneasy. She sidestepped away from him and flashed a soft forced smile. “Maybe. If you can get ahead of me, that is.” With each word she took a step towards her own vehicle until there was a fair distance between them. The door began to lift away from the car as soon as she pulled the handle, and Junko wasted no time taking a seat and closing it again.

Pulling out, she lowered the window and waved to the man still standing beside his car.

“I’ll see you then, Terumoto.” She gave a tentative wave and pulled away without waiting for his response. Mind aflutter, Junko ran two red lights and merged without signalling, only the honks of the cars she nearly ran off the road pulling her back from the fog in her mind. Too unnerved to drive, she pulled over and made a quick call to Wooram back at their office.

“I’m going to the warehouse, I have too many things on my mind to be at that building right now.” Wooram gave a short reply and hung up.

Whenever Junko was in any state of duress she would return to the warehouse where she had begun her criminal lifestyle. Back then Zero Line did not inhabit the office building, it had been a new addition made while she had been in training at Camp Humphreys. To modernize and accommodate, the Primordial King had said, whatever that could have meant. She didn’t need an office, she needed a space to work out of. She didn't care for the flashiness, the power, the high standard they were expected to hold. She just wanted a ways out, a way to make the change she wanted to see in the world.

Junko had realized all too late that the route she had taken from school was not going to do her any good ; the police in Korea were no better than hall monitors. They didn’t carry guns, they didn’t chase criminals, they couldn’t even lay their hands on a suspect without worry of the precinct being sued, all because of South Korea’s worry that they would become like their neighbouring northern dictatorship. But that had led to a downfall of citizen who assumed that they could get away with anything. Unless someone was killed, the police were going to do nothing, even if the evidence came and slapped them in the face.

But now, Junko found that she could do the things she had set out to do, even if it was only in an allotted area. It was painfully ironic to her that the only way she had been able to make change was to join the side that she had grown up hating. The amount of drug trades she had shut down shocked her. The amount of crimes by loan sharks in her area had dropped such a staggering amount that the news couldn’t wrap their head around it for a whole month. All because she realized that the side she had been fighting for was the losing one.

Businesses were no longer targeted by petty criminals because of their influence. A chunk of money went to Zero Line and the rest stayed in the owner’s banks were it deserved to be, not in the veins of a junky looking for a ways to their next fix. Junko didn’t like the word criminal, she thought of herself as a vigilantly, almost - at least, if she lied to herself enough, she began to believe it.

And she almost stayed believing it until she met Sone Terumoto. There was something there, something she could see in him, something she felt when he held her hand that led her back to the idea that she was doing something bad with her life. You are a reflection of the people you have around you, and Junko knew that if she stayed around Terumoto that she might end up seeing something horrible in that reflection.

Before she knew it, Junko was sitting against the hood of the Koenigsegg, the large garage door of the warehouse open towards the shore. She could see the piers from where she sat, smell the waves, feel the salty breeze pepper her arms with goosebumps. She just needed to get under the hood of a car to clear her mind.

A few feet away was the Fairlady she had won from Wooram all those years ago. Just recently the transmission had blown and was in need of rebuilding, and nothing cleared her mind more than tinkering with the chrome maze that was the car’s engine. A quick change of clothes and she was delved into her work, tools scattered and grease splotched.

Nearly half of the way done, a knock on the thin inner wall of the warehouse had her pulling away from her slouched position over the wooden workbench. There was a figure standing in the opening of the garage, she could tell, but the lack of natural light outside drew her attention away. How long had she been working on the transmission that she had lost such a huge chunk of the day? Junko shook her head and turned back to the person - a man - that had come to her.

In an instant she was caught off guard, but just as quickly relaxed.

“Can I help you?” She stood from the bench and wiped the lubricant off her hands with a rag that had been there longer than she had.

A familiar smirk flashed across the face of who could be considered a stranger. “What are you talking about? It’s me, Yongguk.”

Junko shook her head with a smirk of her own. “You are not Bang Yongguk.”

It was true. The man in front of her looked strikingly like the singer she knew, but there were minute differences that painted the picture of a completely different man.

“Hey, I know we haven’t seen each other in a month, but you couldn’t have forgotten.”

“I know you and have never met. And if you honestly think that Yongguk would seek me out, you are completely out of your mind.” Junko eased herself away from the workbench and held up a hand as soon as he opened his mouth again to speak. “You must be Yongnam. Yongguk’s twin, right? Sure, you look and sound alike, but take it from someone who also has a twin. You are definitely not the same person.” Now standing in front of him, Junko held out her hand. “But it is still a pleasure to meet you, even if you tried to trick me.”

Knowing his cover was blown Yongnam smiled sheepishly and reciprocated the handshake. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I - “ He found himself at a loss for words. He understood all too late what a dangerous situation he had put himself in. Yes, Junko was smiling at him, and yes she was more than half a foot shorter than him, but it didn’t dismiss the fact that she was a dangerous person. What his brother had told him about their first few days together had lulled him into a false sense of security that if he wasn’t careful could prove deadly.

“Don’t worry.” Junko released his hand when she caught him staring apprehensively at her. “I know Yongguk told you about me. I know that’s why you’re here. If I know anything about him it’s that he wouldn’t tell his brother about a girl just because she’s cute. He is a man, but he is also not the type to do something like that.

“And I’m not going to pull a gun on you either. It’s not that I don’t have one, it’s just that I can tell you’re too smart to do anything dumb.”

Yongnam could only half appreciate her joke. He watched her turn and walk away from him before turning back after a couple of steps. “C’mon, let’s talk. Get properly introduced and all that.”

In reality Junko couldn’t care less about Yongnam being there, she was just happy to talk to someone who wasn’t in the same line of business as her. These types of thoughts were detrimental to her state of mind ; it led to her doubting herself and her responsibilities. And gave her a massive headache. Touching her forehead softly, Junko turned back around to face Yongnam who stared back startled.

“I’m sorry, but would you like to have a drink with me? I have some things on my mind that I could do with forgetting, at least for a little while.”

He cracked a smile that she found herself needing. “Coming on to me already? I’m flattered.” Yongnam waved his hand at her pained look. “All jokes aside, I’d love to. I have to say that I’m a bit surprised at how friendly you are. It’s not like what the movies taught me at all.” He followed her into the main building of the warehouse, looking at the barren space as they climbed a flight of stairs to a loft overlooking the main area.

Junko fished a couple bottles of Asahi Super Dry from a mini fridge in the corner and sat with Yongnam in a pair of plush chairs. “What did the movies teach you? That I’m supposed to be dragging you into a dark area of this place and interrogating you about knowing where I was? Chopping you into pieces and feeding you to pigs?” She handed him a bottle and took a long drink of her own. Yongnam understood where Yongguk had acquired his taste for the Japanese beer.

“I hope you know we’re not all like that. Gangsters, I mean, not women.” She laughed along with him and sat in silence for a while. “Go ahead, ask what’s on your mind.”

Yongnam stared at the bottle for a while before looking up. “I really don’t want to ruin this image I have of you now.”

“It’s going to be ruined one way or another, so let’s get it out of the way now.”

With that the two sat and talked, exchanging fleeting glances from across a small coffee table and words between a barrier of distrust. Slowly they found their unease melting away whether it be from the alcohol or banter.

Finally, in the early hours of the morning Yongnam moved to excuse himself, a little tipsy on his feet. Junko in the same state followed him down the stairs and back to the front of the open garage door.

“I look forward to seeing you again,” she confessed slowly, sending a quick text for a ride for Yongnam - any cab running this late into the night would be charging an arm and a leg to get to and from anywhere.

“Ditto,” Yongnam shot back a cheesy grin. He suddenly remembered the promise he had made to Yongguk and produced his mobile phone from within his jacket pocket.

Junko held up her own phone to interject. “I already made arrangements for a ride back home.”

Yongnam shook his head, maneuvering through apps until he found the one he was looking for. He reached out and coaxed Junko to stand next to him. She followed his lead as he held the device above their heads, the forward facing camera capturing both of them on the screen. “I told Yongguk I’d tell him if I got away safely.” With that he snapped a quick shot of the two of them smiling though Junko’s looked much more troubled than his own.

A black Escalade pulled up in front of them and the same large man that had picked up the other six boys stepped around the hood to open one of the back doors. Junko gave Yongnam another handshake and waved him off as the car pulled away.

From inside Yongnam watched her slide the garage door shut, staring at the building until it faded away from view and turned his attention back to his phone. Yongguk was still awake judging by the fact that he was still logged into Skype. Yongnam tapped his name and waited for Yongguk to accept the messaging invitation before sending the picture.

Safe and sound, just like I promised.

Yongguk took a long moment to type his response before sending it off.

Good.

Junko talked about you a lot, you know. He knew this caught his brother off guard.

About me? Why?

He considered his words carefully. She’s sad that you think badly of her. She knows why you do, but in her words ‘it’s painful to have someone so trusting and who thinks the best of people to see you as what’s wrong with the world.’

Yongguk stared at the message presented on the soft glow of the computer screen. He didn’t know what to say. All this time he had been associating Junko more and more by what she did than for the person she was. He didn’t even really know what she did, he could only assume. What Jongup had told him at the showcase repeated in his head.

‘Noona didn’t kill anyone, she took the fall for someone else.’

For years now he told himself to be as open minded as possible. He never judged the customs of a culture or their actions to a degree. Yongguk, who appreciated people in all walks of life and from all different eras, who understood why things in history happened and the changes that those actions caused. Que sera sera, as people said, whatever happens happens for a reason.

And yet here he was throwing her under the hypothetical bus for something he wasn’t sure if she actually did. Even when they saw each other in the hospital he could see how tired and troubled she was. Could there be a chance that she didn’t like what she was doing as much as he? The more Yongguk thought about it, the harder thinking actually became. He rested his head in his hands and massaged his temples. Another chime came from his computer and he raised his head to read the new message.

You should try talking to her again, just in case. Really talking to her.

It wasn’t a bad idea, but a bad time. BAP had an event soon at a primary school that he had to prepare for.

I’ll think about it. I have to go to bed, we can talk again soon. Goodnight.

Night~

Yongguk smiled at his twin’s carefree message. Those 12 minutes he had on Yongguk didn’t seem to have an effect on his maturity. Or it might have been the weight on his own shoulders that made him seem more cold. He shook the thought from his head before shutting everything off and heading to the collective bedroom. The room would’ve been silent if not for the soft squeaking of Jongup grinding his teeth.

Jongup. He thought of how selfish he had been this whole time ; Yongguk felt like his whole life was in tatters from having a run in with one supposed criminal when Jongup had been living with this reality his whole adolescence. He would have to properly apologize to the young dancer for not trusting him when he found the right moment.